


Érotique

by Riathel



Series: 200 Word Challenges (Based on Prompts, Kinks, or Whimsy) [8]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: 200 Word Challenge, Erotica, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Crack unless you think about how the Time Lords, Implied Relationships, M/M, and then it/I get sad, enjoy having this headcanon thrust upon you at every opportunity dear reader, probably stripped The Doctor of his ability to sense time properly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riathel/pseuds/Riathel
Summary: The Doctor has been researching a recurrent problem. Jo finds him one day after the research accidentally spills over-hours.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Third Doctor & Jo Grant, Third Doctor/The Master (Delgado)
Series: 200 Word Challenges (Based on Prompts, Kinks, or Whimsy) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609660
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Érotique

Jo finds the Doctor in his lab, sitting in the middle of a pile of books. The way he blanches when he sees her, instead of his normal, grumpy _hello there, Jo,_ is unexpected.

‘Jo,’ he says, carefully, defusing the bomb of this situation with shaky hands, ‘What are you explaining here? I mean, er,’ the bomb nearly falls, ‘I can explain. And, what are you _doing_ here?’

‘It’s Tuesday morning,’ Jo does her best to ‘explain here’ regardless of her confusion, ‘If I’ve been fired without notice again, I think UNIT has a union now, and if they don’t, I’ll complain—’

‘No, you haven’t been sacked, don’t be ridiculous and _don’t pick up that—!’_

She’s always found tidying soothing and picks up the book before he can lunge at her. The book is in French, but it says _Les 120 Journées de Sodome_. The other books are similar: bodice rippers with alien titles and more male nudity than she’s seen in some time.

She thinks she might know what the Doctor wants to explain.

‘I’m—’ He fiddles with his lace cuffs.

‘Oh, Doctor,’ she says, all sympathy, ‘Everyone _knows_.’

‘What, precisely?’

‘You’ve had those dreams again, about the Master.’

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://riathel.tumblr.com), etc, etc, a brief detour from my usual Everything Is Blacker Than Pitch fic (I'm sure it won't last, knowing me.)


End file.
